Reversed
by lysjelonken
Summary: What is Jane and Lisbon's characters were reversed? What if he were the strong-minded Senior Agent and she the trouble-causing consultant? Major AU. Inspired by Imagine If by raqualvalente91 JISBON
1. Chapter 1

**Reversed**

**Alright, I know I'm asking for trouble taking on another fic in my exam time, but I am. Being the idiot that I am. **

**Plotline: The roles of Jane and Lisbon are reversed as they try and catch Red John. Thus, heavy AU.**

**Inspired by the fic 'Imagine If' by raquelvalente91. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

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He walked into the CBI building, sipping the cup of Starbucks tea. He's dreading going in there.

Today is the day that his team will be adding a member – a consultant, who apparently, has some behavior issues.

"_Jane, can I see you in my office please?" Minelli asks him. The older man leads him to the office; after years of working at the CBI, Jane likes to think that he and the boss has developed a father-son-like relationship. Minelli took him on as his protégé when he first came here._

"_Is there something wrong, sir?" Jane asks as soon as the door is closed._

"_Nothing wrong. But I'm assigning a consultant to your team."_

"_A consultant? Like… to do what?"_

"_To consult, of course. You might've heard of her before. Teresa Lisbon."_

_His face scrunched up in a pained expression. "Please no, Virgil! The psychic woman? We're already getting a new rookie to deal with…"_

"_She's not a psychic. She just pays very close attention. Look, she closes cases like nothing I've ever seen in all my life and she's an asset to the Bureau. But we can't hold her down to a team. In the last six months alone she's been kicked out of seven teams. You're my best agent and your team is incredibly competent. You might be the only ones in the bureau that can handle her…"_

"_Please Virgil, don't try and soft-soap me. She's a walking complaint file! Everything she touches explodes!"_

"_Look, I'm she's on your team whether you like it or not. So why don't you make the best of it? She can up your closed-cases numbers like a fiend. Just give her a chance…"_

Honestly, he didn't feel like giving her a chance at all. But what was he to do? She was arriving sometime today to help with their first case together.

In other words, the first scandal in what's sure to be a long line.

Cho briefs him when he enters the bullpen of the case that just got called in. The murder of a young girl; they were going to talk to the parents. Lisbon called in before he arrived apparently – she's meeting them at the scene, she's going to be late.

_Not a very promising start…_ Jane thinks as they leave. The other newbie, a young redheaded woman called Van Pelt, enthusiastic and eager to please is rambling off facts about the deceased all the way to the pretty house in the suburbs. _She's pretty and seems competent_, Jane thinks. _Rigsby seems to have noticed the former as well, by the soulful glances he keeps sending her way. I hope that it goes away with time; I can't handle more trouble!_

X

The mother was an emotional wreck. She excused herself from the room no less than five minutes into it to go calm down in the kitchen.

The father was much more composed and told them all everything they asked in the living room. That was until he heard his wife call out an agonized cry from inside the kitchen and went to see what's going on.

He sat on the couch and a silence fell over the team. Seeing the families deal with the loss has always been the hard part, especially with someone like the mother. She could barely keep her tears at bay and now she was sobbing loudly in the kitchen…

_Wait, is that sobbing?_ Jane thought. Because it was suddenly starting to sound more like shouting; and there was a conspicuously calm female voice sounding between the mother's agonized cries and the father's angry yelling.

He started getting up to see what's going on – the team was also sensing something was wrong, and was not far behind him – until a loud gunshot sounded, and their walking turned to running. They burst into the kitchen, guns drawn and saw before them an incredibly puzzling sight.

The mother was standing, pointing a gun, eyes red and puffy; her husband lay on the floor, shot.

And by her side, with her hands up in a defensive position was his new consultant –Teresa Lisbon.

"Honestly, it's not as bad as it looks." She says.

_Yes it is..._ He thinks. _And it's probably gonna get much worse..._

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**Alright, so I tried to incorporate the real pilot episode with my first chapter (which I'm also about 70% sure Raquel did too, but I really didn't mean to steal. Besides, I did it kinda from the team's POV…) Please review, they make my LIFE! **

**Zanny Xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Reversed: Chapter 2**

**Thanks for all the reviews already! You guys rock! :)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine

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"You got suspended! On your first day here!" Jane yelled angrily at the woman in front of him.

She was slowly walking around in his office, staring at the ceiling, the windows, his desk, his books – everything! – as if they were the most interesting things in the world. As if the way he arranged the papers on his desk or the crack on the ceiling was going to blab all of his innermost secrets.

"Meh. They overreacted."

"Overre-… Are you kidding me?" He asks frustrated. That's exactly what this woman is – a frustration.

Her reputation: frustrating.

Her crazy, unethical behavior: _really_ frustrating.

Her freakishly beautiful green eyes: _incredibly_ frustrating.

She was a beautiful woman – there was no denying that. He _was_ an able-minded, red-blooded, _living_ man, after all. She wasn't the conventional, model-pretty. She was petite and pixie-like; fine features and big, _super_-green eyes. And a very intriguing deep dimple in her one cheek.

Like he said, frustrating.

In her hands there was a cup of steaming coffee and she was holding it lovingly. Another thing that frustrated him! The woman drank coffee day night and everywhere in between!

"Why are you always drinking that stuff? It's poisoning you!"

She shrugs. "It keeps me awake during the day."

"Why are you even _tired_ in the day? What do you _do_ besides lie on the couch and _sleep_?"

She doesn't answer him; instead goes to sit down on the red couch that stands in the corner of his office.

"Don't judge me with my coffee-drinking habits when you're drinking a beverage common to old ladies and British people, none of which you are."

He glares at her. "Why do you need so stay awake when you sleep all the time?"

She hesitates visibly and he feels the need to appreciate it; even in these early days he could see Teresa Lisbon never let anything show. Especially an emotion like hesitation.

"I need to stay awake because sleeping isn't fun."

"Are you kidding me? That's a weak argument. Sleep is fantastic."

"I know sleep is fantastic. But sleep isn't fantastic… for _me._" Something in the way she says it, lets him know what's going on.

Nightmares.

He can't blame her – he's heard the stories.

Red John was the reason she was here, in the CBI. Red John killed her husband and daughter, after she apparently taunted him on television. He's seen the pictures in her file; terrible, violent cuts at their thoughts and that horrible red face smiling down at you…

"Oh." The word is all he can manage, in a tiny voice.

"Yeah." She nods, her eyes not meeting his, and she sips her coffee tentatively. "So, what are you going to do about my suspension?" Her tone is immediately lightened, making him wonder if that sad, dark side of her even revealed itself.

And it brought his mind back to the immediate situation; his consultant was suspended.

"I'm not going to do anything. You need to learn that there are consequences to your actions."

"Alright then." She says easily and gets up to leave. "Have a nice day, Jane. Try to get home at a decent hour tonight."

"Wait, where are you going?"

"None of your business. I'm suspended, right." She says, looking back. She smiles and winks at him and he feels an unexpected and unwelcome tickle in his chest.

He stands in his seat and calls back to her. "Please don't stir up any more trouble!"

She peeks back into his office. "Well… since you said _please_…"

As she leaves he feels that tickle again.

_Oh shit.

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_

**Very, very short, I know. But review anyway? **

**Zanny**


	3. Chapter 3

**Reversed: Chapter 3**

**This takes place during Red Flame, 1x09. I use dialogue from the episode.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

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_A few months later_

They're all sitting in the bullpen, waiting for the case briefing.

She's doing some weird mental-trick on Rigsby and he's falling for it.

He's staring at her while she's busy with something else – the only time that it's ever safe to look at her.

Then she moves her hand and the ring on her left hand catches the light; the ring that sends his thoughts that he will _always_ deny having, skidding into harsh reality.

Her wedding ring. It's silver and has a very large diamond (much larger than he could ever afford… not that that's relevant to anything…) in the dead center, with tiny diamonds encircling it. Personally, he thinks that it's too ostentatious for her. But maybe it was right for who she used to be…

He's way past denying that he's attracted to the beautiful consultant (at least to himself… in the privacy of his own head…), but he knows that there will never even be a chance for a chance for them.

She's in love with a dead man. And the only thing that keeps her coming back to the CBI, and him, every morning, is the hope that she's going to find Red John and make him pay for what he did to her family.

"You wanna try it, Jane?" She asks, looking up and catching his eye. It lacks the teasing twinge that it would have if she caught him staring, and he's grateful for as much.

"Sure, why not?"

"Alright!" She looks positively excited, and it makes him smile a bit. "Imagine there's a screen between you and I." She says, gesturing between them.

He nods.

"Now I want you to imagine a basic shape on the screen: like a circle, but not a circle." Another nod as answer. "Alright, now imagine another shape around that shape."

He's finished: a circle inside of a triangle.

"Alright, now I want you to project that image to the back of my mind…" Her hands are raised as to guide is projected image to her mind. It's actually kind of comical, but he's not going to ruin her fun right now by laughing.

"It's… a circle inside of a triangle." She says with a smile.

_Damn, she's good at this!_ He thinks, but doesn't let on. "No."

"No?"

"No. I was thinking of an octagon inside of a rectangle."

Her face is puzzled at first, but then a smile spreads. "Liar."

He can't help but laugh now. "Okay, you're right. And that's creepy, by the way."

Someone's phone rings, and it's back to work.

X

"Where do you get off letting Machado go just like that?" He asks as she walks out of the interrogation room.

"Oh, we've got nothing on him…" They walk from the interrogation room to his office.

"Nothing on him?" He asks. "He shot at Cho and Van Pelt! Not to mention…"

"Letting him go will lure the real killer. Machado's bait; he's our tethered goat."

"And too bad if the bait gets killed?" He asks.

"Yeah. And that will be why they use goats and not babies or virgins, for that matter." She says as if it's the single most obvious thing in the world.

"Machado's not a goat." He mumbles.

"Well yeah, he's not a goat. He's goat-ish. He deserves to suffer a little."

"Nobody deserves murder."

"Machado helped burn poor Dave Martin alive, out of greed."

"Lisbon, we're officers of the law."

"_You're_ an officer of the law, Jane. I don't care about the law. I _do_, however, care about justice."

"What you're talking about isn't justice, Lisbon. It's vengeance."

"What's the difference?" She asks.

Cho pokes his head into his office. "Boss, what do you want us to do with Machado?"

For a moment he thinks about it. "Let him go."

"Really? Let him go, let him go?" Cho asks.

"Yes. Like that." Jane confirms.

When Cho leaves the office once again, Lisbon is smiling at him. He doesn't allow himself to look at it, because chances are that he'd get lost.

"Trying some reverse psychology?" She asks, teasing evident in her voice.

"Yeah, you talk tough. Maybe it's time that you learn that your actions have consequences. If anything happens with Machado, it's on you."

She nods, but doesn't answer. Instead she walks out of his office.

He starts typing on his computer, trying to forget her smile, when she pops back into his office.

"We've never discussed this… mainly because I thought it went without saying. But when I catch Red John, I'm going to cut him open and watch him suffer, like he did with my husband and child." She says. Her voice is eerily calm, unlike he's ever heard it before. "And if you have a problem with that, then we should talk."

"Then let's talk." He says. "Because when _we_ catch Red John, I'm going to arrest him and he's going to be tried in a court of law."

"Not if I'm still breathing."

"If you try to do violence to him, I'll try and stop you. If you succeed in doing violence to him, I will arrest you."

"I understand." Her voice is calm and controlled again; back to the normal, infuriating Lisbon.

"I hope so."

"Well, I'm glad we had this talk. I had no idea you were so bourgeois and conventional about the matter." She says, chuckling pleasantly and smiling as she walked out of his office.

He sighs deeply and rests his head in his hands.

Maybe he never wanted to think about the impending situation; the clash that has always promised to come.

Red John.

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about if he would really be able to arrest her like he said he would.

In the matter of a few short months, she's become such a large part of the team. Her charming personality won them over in record time. Won _him_ over…

_Would I? Would I be able to arrest her if she really does what she says she will?_

Even after such a short time, he knows that Teresa Lisbon does not make idle threats. Or at least not idle threats without a carefully-planned outcome.

He was going to have to get over this little crush-thing he has developing for her…

It promises to create nothing but trouble.

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**What do you think? Please review? Pretty, pretty, pretty please?**

**Zanny X**


	4. Chapter 4

**Reversed: Chapter 4**

**Thanks reviewers! Sorry it took forever to update, but they're working on our internet so I can't go online to post. It's kind of killing me, since I'm writing exams, which means Simon (my writing mojo) is kicking ass at present. Anything not to study, I guess. :)**

**This chap will not have any spoilers or be linked to any actual Red John killings in the show. This is all fiction, all me. All my plotline.**

**And I'm going to bring in some stuff Jane's done in earlier episodes of the show; since she's him in this fic (wow, this sounds so weird…) she'll do things that he does. It just doesn't have to be at the exact same moment as in the show… Am I making sense? If not, don't worry, you'll see when you read.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

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It hit them when they least expected it; another Red John killing.

A young couple brutally murdered in their bed. They were spread across the bed with their blood staining the sheets; their mouths opened as if screaming for help, their eyes blank and cold and dead. Beside them, their hands were linked.

On the wall above them, was the haunting red face. It looked down at them, as if taunting them. '_You can't catch me, you can't catch me!_'

Jane looked over to where she was standing at the foot of the bed, taking in the horrifying scene.

Her eyes glazed over and lost that teasing green glint they so often had; in its place was a cold, steely gaze. She wasn't the woman he knew anymore.

The forensics team arrived and moved to start working on the bodies.

"DON'T TOUCH THEM!" Lisbon shouted and waved them away from the bed. Then she continued standing still looking at the bodies.

The frightened forensics people looked at Jane with confused eyes, and he nodded and told them to wait a minute. After they left the room to go wait elsewhere ('preferably where there aren't any psychotic consultants with tempers…' Jane hears one of them whisper), Jane looks up at her.

"Lisbon, are you alright?" He asks.

She nods slowly, but says nothing.

"Maybe you should go get some air."

When she looked at him, he felt a chill creep down his spine at her sharp glare. "I'm _not_ leaving."

"I'm not suggesting you leave. I'm suggesting you get some air. There's a difference."

"I'm good." Her tone is snappy and he almost flinches. Almost.

But for that he's just a little too stubborn.

"Look, Lisbon, if you're going to be like this the entire case, then we're going to have to do something about it. You can't go yelling at people just because this case makes you loopy and they're trying to do their jobs!"

"_Loopy_?" She asks. It was probably in an effort to make the conversation lighter and convince him she was fine, but it lacked to warm, teasing tone that usually inhabited her voice.

"Yes. Loopy. As in insane, ridiculous, out of form."

"I know what loopy means." She says and the bite is back in her tone. Then she turns on her heel and walks out of the room. "By the way, it's not Red John. It's a copycat." She says as she storms out.

X

Forensics confirmed that the killer was, in fact, the husband's brother. A single hair sticking to the blood on the wife's neck said as much.

Jane was still mad at Lisbon for acting so badly. He was handing out a firm dose of the silent treatment.

_He's really good at that…_ She thought as she lay on her couch in the bullpen, tinkering with some scrap paper. _The rest of the team forgave me as soon as I said 'lunch is on me'._

She looks back at where he's sitting at his desk, filling in some paperwork that she caused in the process of pinning the murderer.

_He really is a handsome man…_ She ponders to herself. _I wonder why he doesn't have a girlfriend… Hmm… Might be the workaholic habits. The only women he meets is at the office, and women in law enforcement are both scarce and scary. I should really make an effort to get him out more. A little distraction might be good for him. Someone who appreciates having such a handsome, strong… intriguing man around…_

If she was looking from the outside, no doubt she would've noticed how she was subconsciously toying with the ring on her ring finger.

But she didn't, because she was thinking about her boss' social life… The moment she realized this, she shook her head and focused her attention back on the task at hand: the little scrap piece of paper between her fingers.

She stands up and leisurely walks to his desk.

When he looks up, he says: "Don't bother. I'm still mad."

She smiles and puts the little paper on his desk. It's folded into and origami frog. He looks at it with confused eyes, then looks up at her.

_Wow, blue eyes. Pretty radiant blue eyes too… Like the ocean. That should count in his favor… How on earth had this man avoided female contact for so long? They must be going after him like flies to honey._

"Oh, a frog. Well that makes everything better, doesn't it."

_Oh, the sarcasm. That must be the deal breaker… _She doesn't answer just smiles and walks away.

She counts in her head: _One… Two… Three…_ *POP!*

The little origami frog jumps up, just as she rigged it. Jane jumps a little in fright in his chair and her smile doubles in size. As she looks back, she sees that Jane can't help the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards, and she knows all is forgiven.

This is him, after all. A childhood that asked so much responsibility and paternal instinct has to teach you to forgive easy. Holding grudges against three little brothers won't do you much good if you're the parent that has to keep peace.

She then walks to the kitchenette to go make herself some more coffee.

Her boss is still on her mind.

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**So what'd you think? Please review!**

**Zanny**


	5. Chapter 5

**Reversed: Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

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_More months later_

She's driving them back from a crime scene from the other side of the state – a rare occurrence. He thinks she drives too torturing slow. She says he should stop being in such a rush; life is about taking your time and smelling the roses.

He's confused about why she owns the sports car then, if she drives like an old lady. And why she won't let him drive her car. She says that he'd crash it within minutes and smirks.

It's very, very late and the highway is almost empty; her green eyes are rigged on the shiny spots on the black road from the headlights.

He's starting to drift. He resents it, but he is absolutely _exhausted_. He's been having trouble sleeping lately, and it was a hard, tiring case.

"Talk to me." She says. Her voice brings him back from his dazed half-sleeping state.

"Do I have to?" He grumbles.

"No. I could just fall asleep and we can drift into oncoming traffic." She says. Her sharp wit is softened by her own exhaustion.

His eyes snap open in an urgent attempt to stay awake. "Alright then…" _Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake! Hmm… She's kind of pretty in this light… Those aren't awake thoughts! Something to talk about… What doesn't sound like I'm a workaholic stiff who has no semblance of a social life..? _"Seen any good movies lately?"

"No…" She says and she sounds a little confused.

_What the hell was that?_ He thinks.

"You?" She asks.

"No."

_Alrighty then…_

As he drifts into sleep, he can't help looking at her. She really is very beautiful, and he hates himself for thinking that way. Teresa Lisbon was the new definition of taboo. She was off-limits to the limit! Any scrap of hope he might have stupidly attained for any sort of relationship between them was impossible.

She was hopelessly in love with her dead husband; she was a broken woman, whose only ambition in life was vengeance. She was destined to either kill the serial killer and spend the rest of her life in jail, or die trying.

He'd fallen for this kind of thing before. Women he worked with. When he just started out in law enforcement in San Francisco, he fell for one of his team members. But he never allowed anything to come of it; she was happily married, not to mention that it was absolutely against the rules. The thing that hurt the most was that it was obvious that she felt the same about him. He watched from afar as the woman he loved and who loved him continued to be with another man.

When he moved away, he got over her. But the experience taught him a fountain of lessons. Like that watching love pass you by _hurt_. He wasn't sure this was love. I mean… love would be highly inappropriate, wouldn't it?

There was no denying he was attracted to her. But charming and beautiful as she was, that was no surprise.

Right before he falls into deep sleep, a thought crosses his mind.

_Stupid idiot, falling in love with Teresa Lisbon._

X

He wakes up in his own bed. He lies there for a few moments before the strangeness of it hits him.

He doesn't remember getting out of the car.

He slowly sits up; he's bare-chested and wearing a pair of pajama pants. _Alright… That's weird…_

Even weirder was the sounds emanating from downstairs… _Sounds?_

He gets up, taking his off-duty weapon out of the drawer in the bedside table and slowly made his way down the staircase. As he went down the stairs, he recognized the sounds: the radio playing in the kitchen, a female voice singing along, the clattering of pots and pans and… was that hissing? A kettle?

He peers into the kitchen and nearly falls over in shock.

Teresa Lisbon is standing in his kitchen, behind his stove, making eggs and bacon.

Singing along to the radio.

Dressed only in her work shirt and underwear.

_Is this some kind of cruel dream?_ He thinks.

Lisbon looked up and saw him in the doorway; a wide smile spread over her face. "Good morning, sleepy head!" She said, chuckling. "Want some eggs?"

He was speechless. What was going on here?

"W-Wha… What happened?" He asked. Did they sleep together? _Oh my gosh, I slept with my consultant! I'm in a heap of trouble!_

She replied with a hearty (beautiful) laugh. This didn't do anything to expel his fears; in fact, the most it did was insult him.

"Relax, Patrick. We didn't sleep together." She said, and he noticeably exhales in relief. This makes her frown. "Oh please, don't make that face like you haven't thought about it!" She teases.

"Why are you wearing that? What happened?" He asks, sitting down at the kitchen table.

She looked him right in the eyes, as if considering what to tell him. After a few moments she smiles. "Nope, I think I'm gonna let you stress a little longer."

"LISBON!"

"Oh, come on Jane! Have a little humor!"

"Lisbon…" His tone was getting more and more dangerous and she decided that it was maybe a little too early to test him.

"You fell asleep in the car. So I dropped you off at home. You wanted to wear something a little more comfortable." She gestures to his attire – or rather lack of it.

He tries hard not to blush, making her chuckle at him.

"Don't worry, Jane. I left the room. I'm not some pervert that watched you get dressed!" She says, the teasing smile not leaving her face. "We drove back in your car and it was pretty late. Besides, I was tired. So I bunked on your couch. And now I'm making breakfast!" She said, lifting the pan holding a feast of eggs and bacon up for him to behold.

"Why are you wearing..?" He vaguely gestures to her, blushing more than he'd like to admit. He tries desperately to keep his eyes off of her legs, which seemed unbelievably long for the woman's short stature.

"I was sleeping on your horribly lumpy couch, Jane. I wasn't going to torture my body by wearing jeans while sleeping on top of it all."

He looks down. "You know you could've woken me. I'd have let you have the bed."

"Aw, that's terribly sweet of you, Jane. But I'm fine, really. I had a lovely rest… well, on my standards anyway." She chuckles. "Now, how about breakfast?"

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**That wasn't too OOC, was it? Please review, I really need them to keep writing.**

**Zanny X**


	6. Chapter 6

**Reversed: Chapter 6**

**Sorry I took forever to update. This time I have an excuse, though, it wasn't just my own laziness. I was away this weekend with my boyfriend (gush!), so I wasn't **_**home**_** with my **_**laptop**_** to **_**write**_**.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still nada.

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Things were getting pretty weird after Lisbon's little sleepover on Jane's couch.

They still worked together; they still solved crimes like a well-oiled, complaint-inducing machine. But whenever they were alone, driving to a crime scene or when the team is off interviewing, this awkward silence would fall. Their eyes would dart away from each other, but keep creeping back.

He can't help but remember how she looked early that morning; her hair was a mess from spending the night on a couch, the way she was singing along to the song on the radio… He didn't even want to get started on what she wore. Because that would just make the whole mess worse…

Lisbon couldn't get that morning out of her head either. She planned on calling a cab and heading back to the CBI building and sleep on the couch. Goodness knows, she needed some sleep. Her insomniac ways have been catching up on her lately, and she hadn't gotten any sleep with the out-of-town case. She felt heavy on her feet. After having woken Jane just enough to drag his half-conscious state into his house, up the stairs and into the bedroom. There sleepy (adorably grouchy) Jane became fussy in his uncomfortable work-clothes and went on autopilot, putting on his pajamas. Although the temptation was great, she left the room (once again, feeling her wedding ring burn against her skin). When she came down the stairs, bewildered by her unusual thoughts and overtaken by exhaustion, Jane's ratty old couch started looking really good. So she took off her shoes and jeans, pulled the blanket that was slung over the back of the couch and snuggled into the plush sofa. It was tore on the armrest and there were badly-concealed stains on the upholstery.

It wasn't nearly as nice as the brown leather beauty that she napped on at the office, but it was actually pretty nice.

It had character.

And the blanket kind of smelled like him…

She fell asleep with no problem at all. The next morning, when she woke, she felt awkward and foreign. What was the customary reaction to a situation like this? Just leave? He'll never know if she did…

But she didn't want to leave. She kind of wanted to know how the great Senior Agent Patrick Jane looked when he just woke up… For completely innocent reasons, of course.

He looked beautiful when he just woke up. His hair was mussed up and his face was all confused and sleep-ridden and adorable. Painfully, annoyingly, _forbiddingly_ adorable.

_Stupid beautiful man!_ She thought, taking an angry sip of her coffee. She immediately regretting it, sputtering the still a-bit-too-hot liquid. Her tongue felt numb and swollen. _See what you're doing to me? You're distracting me! From my coffee, from the case… from the big picture. How can any red-blooded woman be expected to exact revenge on a bloodthirsty serial killer with that running around the hallways?_

She groaned and leaned back against her couch.

This was wrong.

This was bad.

So very wrong… So very bad…

But he was _so_ handsome, and _so_ sweet, and he made her feel like everything was going to be okay. Even when her life was obviously extremely non-okay.

She lies down more comfortably on her couch and closes her eyes. Maybe if she got some shut-eye she could straighten her brain out.

Because this was not working for her. She couldn't continue staring at her boss' ass every time he turned around. She needed to get a hold of herself and fast!

X

When she woke it was dark and the bullpen was empty.

The only light is the white glow from the moon seeping in through the blinds and the only sound, the soft hum of a single computer.

He's still working.

If _course_ he's still working.

It's _him_.

She slowly hoists herself up from her seat and moves to his office. She was going to make it her mission to get him home at a half-decent hour tonight. She was an expert on unhealthy behavior, and _that_ was unhealthy behavior.

When she reaches the doorway, she finds him just as she expects to find him. Sitting behind the desk with the computer monitor illuminating his pristine features. He's typing away on the keyboard; looks up at her when he senses her presence.

His eyes are shockingly blue in this light…

"Lisbon." He acknowledges her.

"Go home, Jane." She says. "You need to get to bed."

"Is that an offer?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. She's almost bowled over by his sudden forwardness.

_What the..?_

Then he stands up from behind his desk, walks around towards her and before she can say or do anything to stop him, encircles her waist with his arms and kisses her.

Her head spins and she can't stop herself from responding with equal fervor.

His lips are soft and warm and perfect against hers.

His arms are strong and wonderful, holding her.

Now his hands are edging down from where they are resting on the small of her back and lacing right under her ass, lifting her up and placing her on his desk.

Then he breaks, his lips still only inches away from hers. "Lisbon?" His voice is breathy and husky. _Oh my…_

"Lisbon?" Less breathy now, but it still sends chills down her spine.

"LISBON!"

She jumps in fright. She's lying on her couch; it was a dream.

_Oh crap._

It was a _really realistic_ dream. Because it was dark right now… Yup, she's pretty sure it was this shade of darkness in her dream as well. The moon was shining just like now as well.

But the part that was really making her heart stop was Jane: his face was only inches from hers.

"Jane?" She asks, her voice tiny and strained. _Really close… Reeeeaaally close…_

"Good. You're awake." He says, straightening himself up back into a standing position beside the couch. "You need to get some sleep, Lisbon. On a real bed."

"Is that an invitation?" She asks, raising an eyebrow. She couldn't help herself.

Jane's cheeks flush bright red and he throws her a glare for good measure. "Don't be an idiot, Lisbon. Come on, it's unhealthy to lie on this couch all night. Let me drive you home."

"I don't want to go home."

He considers. "Well… If you want… I mean, I don't want you to lie here all night… So… I do actually have a guest bedroom, you know."

"Wait, you have a guest bedroom? You let me sleep on your lumpy couch if you have a guest bedroom?"

"Well, in my defense, I didn't know you were there in the first place!"

"Yeah, well… Hey… Patrick, are you inviting me to stay at your place?" She asks teasingly.

"Look, if you're going to go on about it like this, then…"

"No, no, no! I appreciate it! Sure, Jane, I'd love to stay in your guest room." She says, smiling.

But as they walk to the elevator together, on their way to _his _car, wherewith they will drive to _his_ house where she will be sleeping in a bed only rooms away from _him_… She starts to see how this could be going against her argument from earlier.

_Damn it. I'm such a glutton for punishment!_

She thinks about making up and excuse, but he smiles at her and she melts.

_Well… Might as well make the best of it…

* * *

_

**REVIEW! So there was a kiss, like you guys asked, but I decided to be mean and make it a dream-kiss! Come on and tell me what you think! I need ideas for romantic happenings at Jane's place!**

**Love, Zanny**


	7. Chapter 7

**Reversed: Chapter 7**

**Thanks for all the reviews, guys! You rock!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

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**

Jane's apartment is not too far away and they arrive in no time at all.

When they enter the door and Jane switches on the lights, Lisbon takes another good look at his apartment. It's a nice place, actually.

But messy.

She refuses to allow herself to think about the things she knows about messy men in bed…

She averts her attention to the pictures in frames on the book case. It showed two young boys and a girl, all with identical curly, blonde locks.

_Siblings_… She thought.

"My brothers and little sister." Jane says from across the room.

"They look like you. Same hair… Same eyes… Same frowns." She says, smiling teasingly.

He chuckles. "The guest room is upstairs, first door on the right. There's an en-suite bathroom. I'm gonna make some dinner, you hungry?"

She was ravenous.

"Alright. I'll find you something to wear tonight."

With a quick thank you, she went upstairs to take a shower.

The guest bedroom was much neater than the rest of the house and beautifully decorated. It was probably his sister's room when she comes to visit, she thought, on account of the soft bedding and large mirror hanging on the wall… She opened the door to the en-suite bathroom and her suspicions were confirmed. The bathroom was fully equipped with every potion and lotion one could ever imagine, and a hairdryer still lay on the table where it had been forgotten.

_Yup, definitely little sister's room. Unless of course he plays host to other women… But Jane isn't like that..! Right?_

She gave the hairdryer a green glare before starting the shower.

X

When she got out of the steaming shower, she found a pair of pink-striped pajama pants and an oversized sports jersey.

Pink-striped pajama pants…

_Hmm… His sister must be really forgetful… Her hairdryer, her pajama pants. Yup, the sister is forgetful. Because Jane isn't like that..! Right?_

She reluctantly put on the pajama pants. When she pulled on the oversized jersey, her senses were overthrown with an unbelievable familiar scent.

_Jane_.

This was _his_ jersey. It smelled like him.

She allowed herself a moment to drown in the overwhelming feeling without analyzing herself. Her eyes closed and she felt her mind daze; she just sat on the bed and felt is presence, all around her but just out of reach.

After a few minutes of that, she snapper herself out of the daze.

_What was that? It's just a shirt, for goodness sakes! Besides, I'm supposed to be the cold-hearted consultant bent on revenge!_

She quickly walked out the room before she had enough quiet-time to analyze herself again.

Jane was standing in the kitchen, heating up something that looks like lasagna.

"Oh hey. Finished already?"

"Uh huh. What's that?" She asks. "It smells heavenly."

"Oh, I'm just heating up some lasagna from last night. I hope you don't mind."

"No, no. It looks delicious. And I'm _starving_."

She watched the rare sight before her: Patrick Jane in domesticity. Dishing up lasagna fresh out of the microwave, his jacket slung over the couch and his sleeves rolled up.

"Bon appetite!" He says smiling, walking towards the couch. She follows him and sits down beside him. He channel hops until he finds a movie that neither of them have seen before (which wasn't hard since TV wasn't exactly high on the to do-list for either of them).

They sit in comfortable silence and eat and watch the movie.

Every now and again she catches him as his eyes dart towards her. He quickly looks away and she notices a twinge of pink creep up his cheeks, but she says nothing. She has to admit that she's amused by his blushing. She hasn't seen a man blush like that ever… She's never seen it look that cute either.

_AGH! I'm terrible! GET OVER IT, GET OVER IT, GET OVER IT! STOP THINKING ABOUT HOW BEAUTIFUL JANE IS!_

Beside her, things weren't going that great either.

He couldn't keep himself from stealing looks at her. She looked great in his shirt.

It must be some kind of integrated male-machismo thing. But seeing her in his clothes was making his brain go haywire and his heart race.

She catches him staring every few moments and flashes a smug smile, but says nothing. He's thankful because he's embarrassed enough as it is.

After a while their plates are empty and lying on the coffee table, and they're still sitting on the couch, watching the movie.

It gets late, but they don't move.

The movie ends, but they watch the next one.

They're half asleep, but neither of them dares to move a muscle.

Somewhere along the line they've nudged closer and closer to each other until she's resting her head on his chest with her legs tucked under her and his arm has moved around her waist. They were _cuddling_.

_He_ knew it wasn't supposed to be happening.

_She_ knew it wasn't supposed to be happening.

But they both let it happen.

They sat in each other's arms and enjoyed each other's presence until they both fell asleep.

The last thing that crossed Lisbon's mind before she succumbed to sleep and the warmness of Jane next to her was: _I can't believe I'm falling asleep on his couch again.

* * *

_

**So what do you think? Not too OOC (I mean, considering…)? Please review, I love suggestions and comments!**

**Zanny X**


	8. Chapter 8

**Reversed: Chapter 8**

**Thanks for the reviews, guys! Sorry for taking forever to update, but I've been doing volunteer work at a hospital (Phase 1 in my 4 phase 'Get into Medical School'-plan) so I get home and read and don't get a chance to write. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

* * *

**

She woke up in the warmest warmth she's ever known. Her pillow was rising and falling at the slowest, gentlest of paces; soft breathing acted as a beautiful lullaby.

She opened her eyes slowly and adjusted to the light. Once she could see correctly again, the breath hitched in her throat at her current position. She waited for the guilt to come flooding in, overwhelm her and make her want to run and hide and disappear from the face of the earth.

It never did.

It was just the warmth and the rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his breathing.

His heartbeat.

His presence all around her. Enveloping her. Taking over her.

She didn't want to move and risk him waking up. His heartbeat was slow, his breathing was steady; and best of all he wasn't moving. She didn't want him to wake up and go all 'professional-agent' on her and distance himself. His arms were too nice to leave.

So she didn't move a muscle. She just lay and breathed in his scent: the same one that overtook her when she pulled on his sport's jersey last night.

It was like a new heaven. Something she never thought she'd ever feel again. Not since her husband was taken away so violently…

She didn't allow herself to get girly about the situation. Because she knew that then she would start squealing and smiling like an idiot, because she was lying in the arms of an _extremely attractive _man. She wouldn't let herself think about what would happen when he woke up or what possible repercussions this little encounter would have on their relationship… She didn't want to over think.

Over think's ass, she didn't want to _think_. She just wanted to _be_ there.

It could've been hours that she lay there, or just mere minutes. Time seemed to have warped into a crazed idea without any real measure. He woke with a small start but quickly recovered. She felt rather than saw him squint and adjust to the light. She felt his muscles constrict as he stretched them to loosen up the stiff muscles; unconsciously keeping mind not to wake to woman in his arms before he really even registered her presence. He relaxed again and let out a deep, satisfied breath. She couldn't help the corners of her mouth from twitching upward in his satisfaction from holding her.

And then he noticed.

It wasn't hard to figure out. His entire body tensed. His chest froze under her cheek and she heard his heart rate sky rocket.

His arms loosened considerably around her waist (she was amazed at the level of disappointment that hit her as he did so) and she felt the hesitant hovering of his hands on her hip.

"Morning." She said; her voice husky and a bit scratchy from sleep.

She felt him jump a little in surprise. "Morning. You slept on my couch again."

"So I did." _That's the most interesting thing about my sleeping last night?_ "You're not going in today." It was more of a statement than a question.

"It's my day off. How-?"

"It's past nine. If you had work you would've made sure that you didn't oversleep last night. Set an alarm or something."

"Oh."

"Uh-huh."

The silence that fell wasn't awkward. It was comfortable and still laden with sleepiness.

Then he does something that she never expected (and that doesn't happen often to Teresa Lisbon). He looks down at her, catching her eye and holds the gaze.

She can't help the chill that runs down her spine; _Stop being such an idiot!_ She thought to herself.

He smiles (_And what a smile!_) and says in the sweetest, softest tone: You look beautiful in the mornings.

It's a far cry from anything else she's seen Jane do. Jane, who is usually so against unprofessional behavior. And really, what's more unprofessional than falling asleep on the couch with your consultant in romantic embrace and then telling her she's beautiful? Not much…

She's taken completely aback by his words. Was this his way of… initiating? Some sort of relationship more than what they currently have?

Is she _ready_ to be part of something more than they currently have?

She considers her options:

Option 1: Jump out of his arms, run off and never return again. Find Red John on her own or ask Minelli to be placed on another team where she won't be taunted by what could've been day in and out.

Option 2: Run away, and stay on the team. Be taunted for the rest of his working life by the blonde haired-beauty, imagining how good they could've been together. Remebering how warm and amazing his arms were around her waist, how soothing his heartbeat and gentle breathing was as it lulled her to a calm place…

Option 3: Stay. Tell him how she feels (even though her feelings are a little muddy even to herself at the moment). Maybe it could become something; maybe she could be happy again… Or maybe things could go horribly wrong and she'd end up exactly the same way as the other two options. Sad and alone and wishing things were different.

She feels him getting restless in her silence; his heartbeat accelerates once again and his smile disintegrates to a nervous straight line.

Her breath hitches…

_What do I do?

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_

**Yeah right. As if I was going to become a merciful, nice writer **_**now**_**. Go on and review and tell me what you want! Suggest please! I don't want to make it too sappy-sappy fluffacious, but I'm feeling I'm stretching this fics to an uncomfortable length? Come on, I know you want to push that review-button!**

**Zanny Xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Reversed: Chapter 9**

**Thanks for all the reviews and suggestions, guys! Special thanks to LizFromItaly, who is to thank for the plot of coming chapter…**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

* * *

**

She was a selfish, horrible woman and she knew it.

The moment after she did it, she knew that it was wrong. That it would only end horribly; that she could only hurt him.

But she also knew that it felt too right for her to stop. It was too beautiful and too amazing to stop.

So she kissed him.

She went out on the limb; looked up into those incredibly blue eyes and slowly started closing the space between them until their lips met.

His lips were warm and sweet against hers. Her eyes fell closed the moment they touched and she drowned in more of Jane than she ever thought she'd have. His arms tightened around her waist and she felt him pull her closer to deepen the kiss.

That was her Jane; taking control. All she needed to do was initiate the kiss for him to take over her lips in that same commanding way he takes over every case they work on.

When they finally broke, out of breath, he caught her eye.

Thoughts were rushing through her head: _This is wrong; I'm supposed to be faithful to my husband… I can't give myself fully to him; it's unfair, it's wrong… What about Red John?_

But his eyes said something different and it made all of her flurried thoughts disappear into nothingness. Deep, pure blue adoration shone through his eyes. Something that could've been just lust, but held the hope of something deeper… Love?

And she knew that there was no going back.

X

_Three months later_

He woke with a start to a shrill ringing.

Squinting as he adjusted to the light, he started to coordinate his fuzzy mind enough to realize the intruding noise was coming from a phone. _Her _phone.

She was lying with her head on his chest, their legs entangled together wrapped in his blue sheets. Her breathing was even and gentle: she was sleeping.

It made him smile. Teresa Lisbon's insomnia issues were well known and it gave him a sense of pride that she would fall into a deep, peaceful slumber in his arms. He remembers when they first started dating, after that morning they woke up in a very similar position on his couch. The first few nights that she slept over, she'd wake up within a few hours in a cold sweat. He'd hold her and rub soothing circles on her back until her breathing returned to normal… these days the nightmares have faded away and she slept longer, deeper. She'd even sleep later than him most mornings…

But now was not the time to think about her sleeping patterns. That annoying piece of technology was lighting up and having a buzzing fit on the bedside table. He knew he couldn't answer it himself; it was _her_ phone and nobody knew they were dating. It was one of the really important rules that he set after their first date: nobody gets to know. She agreed; she knew how important work was to him, and the CBI would object with everything they had if they found out. "Not to mention," she said with a playful grin. "Think of all the fun we could have behind their backs…"

"Honey… Wake up…" He said, gently shaking her shoulders until she woke, drawing in a deep breath as she did.

"W-What's wrong?" Her eyes don't open. It's adorable.

"Nothing's wrong… Your phone." He hands her the phone, smiling.

She frowns first, wondering why he didn't answer it himself; then, as realization strikes her, she chuckles and kisses him good morning.

She takes the phone and answers. "Teresa Lisbon…"

The smile on her face fell almost immediately. Her eyes glazed over and became cold and hard.

He mouthed 'What's wrong?' to her, but no reaction.

Then: "Where are you?" Her tone was dark and she spoke slowly and angrily. It upset him.

A few seconds more and then she hung up.

"Teresa, who was that?"

"No one." She looked down and shook her head.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." She looked up at him and feigned a comforting smile.

"Liar. Who was that?"

"Don't worry about it, please."

"I'm _going_ to worry. Teresa, don't shut me out like this… _Please…_"

She drew a deep breath and looked him in the eyes once again. He saw tears brimming in them and it almost broke them. He hated seeing sadness and pain in those beautiful green eyes…

"I need to leave, Patrick. I need to leave you and I need to do it now."

"What? Why?"

"It's not safe… It's not safe for you to be with me. I knew going in that I was being selfish starting something with you… But I can't let anything hurt you. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you. I'd never be able to live through that again."

"What do you mean, Teresa? Nothing's going to happen to me."

"The voice… The voice on the phone, it said that… It said that he knows."

"What? Who knows?"

"Red John." She said, tears falling over her cheeks.

"Red John? Teresa, what did he say? _Exactly?"_

She drew another hesitant, deep breath before speaking. "He said that I should have known better than to be happy again. That I didn't deserve it. And that he wasn't going to let it happen. That, if I wanted to keep you safe, I should do you a favor and leave."

He took her in a deep embrace and let her cry, like he did when her nightmares used to hit. But he knew that this was much worse than nightmares. Soothing whispers wasn't going to help. This was _real_.

"It's alright. It's going to be alright… We'll be okay, Teresa, we'll get him. Let him come and try, I can take care of myself… We'll get him."

"You don't get it, do you?" She asked, looking up at him disbelief. Then she shook her head and looked down, avoiding his gaze. "I'm sorry, Patrick." Her voice was soft and watery.

"Don't be sorry." He said, panicking. "Don't be sorry…"

She just shook her head and sorrowfully coaxed his arms from her waist, climbing out of bed.

He watched her pull on her clothes and take her few things where they were strewn across the room.

Then she walked to the doorway, threw him a last regretful glance.

And then she left.

* * *

**So there was the kiss! Finally! And also some sadness. Reviews make me update faster…**

**Zanny X**


	10. Chapter 10

**Reversed: Chapter 11**

**I feel like a rebel writing this chapter – it's on my mom's laptop because she's got the internet-connect memory stick-thingy and mine doesn't. Thus, here I am, in Mosselbay, writing chapter 11 on my mother's laptop. Feeling inappropriately badass about it. Thanks to all the reviewers, once again, you guys rock my world!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

* * *

**

She drove out of Sacramento only a few hours after she left him.

Her only other stop was the CBI office to drop her letter of resignation off.

Once she drove past that taunting 'You are now leaving'-sign, she picked up speed until she drove faster than she can ever remember driving before. She remembers Jane's complaints on her slow driving in her sport's car. She remembers driving with him in the black Suburban, how she clung to the edges of her seat as he flew down the highway. Speeching him on the dangers of speeding and the importance of not rushing through life…

Now she wants to get out of here, fast. So she goes above the speed limit, _way above_, and doesn't care when the traffic camera flashes signalling that she'll soon be sent an outrageous ticket.

The sooner she leaves this place the better. The sooner she forgets about the man she wasn't supposed to fall for, the better.

But she can't help the feeling like a magnetic force pulling her back against her seat, towards Sacramento.

She wasn't supposed to fall in love with Patrick Jane. That wasn't the plan.

Not that she went into this with a game plan, but she had a good idea on what would end well and what would end in heart-breaking catastrophe. When she made the decision to kiss him and start a relationship, she told herself that it was for purely selfish reasons. She hated herself for using him like that, but her reasons were her reasons. No real feelings were supposed to develop, even though she knew in the back of her head from the very start they would.

She fell in a trap she set herself.

And here Red John was, reacting accordingly, as she should have expected him to. She didn't know how else to keep him safe. If she stayed she wouldn't be able to keep herself from him – she knows as much from three months' worth of yearning in the office. She's too weak to be apart from him for too long, and that's what'll kill him.

So she needs to severe herself from any temptation of going back. She needs to forget…

_How am I ever going to forget? _ She asks herself. _How am I going to forget the man who saved me from myself?_

X

The first sign of her departure hit him when he parked his black Suburban in the CBI parking lot.

Her parking space was open; the powder blue Citroen that normally stood _right there_… was gone.

It was always there. Before they began their relationship, he'd always wondered where she went at night, because her car never seemed to leave. It was there when he arrived each morning and there when he left. Even in the last three months while they were together, she'd leave with him in his SUV.

He didn't think she'd _leave_! From her words and hasty exit he gathered as much that she was leaving _him_, not that she was leaving Sacramento.

_I didn't get a chance to plead my case… I didn't get a chance to try and persuade her to stay…_

_I didn't get to say goodbye._

The stubborn streak in him kept him from wallowing. Instead he felt rage and disappointment. How could she do this to him? So soon after they found each other, just pack up and go!

He knows very well that a threat from Red John is neither a 'just pack up and go', nor an ideal threat for that matter. She had a logical reason to leave – to protect him.

But logic wasn't getting very far in his mind right now.

He marched into the CBI building and made a beeline for Minelli's office.

"Jane, do you know what this is?" Minelli asked the moment he walked in; he didn't even say good morning.

"I don't know, what is it?"

"It's your consultant letter of resignation. Tell me, Patrick, what the hell happened? I thought things were going good! In the last few months her number of complaints have shrunk considerably. Why did I walk into my office to _this_ thing?"

"It's Red John, sir." He said, wasting no time. "He called Lisbon this morning. Threatened her and then she left."

Minelli's eyes narrowed. "How do you know all this?"

Jane considered telling him about his new relationship with his consultant, but decided against it. Hopefully they'll figure out a way to get her back, and then what? Then they can't be together because of the stupid rules?

"She called me this morning, sir. But I didn't think she'd actually leave." He lied.

Minelli's eyes didn't return to their normal form, they stayed narrow and suspicious. Jane shifted uncomfortably. Lying was never one of his vices.

"Follow up on Red John and find her. We need the phone Red John called her on… Among things." He said finally. "She closes cases, Jane."

"I know, sir."

"We need to close cases. Close this case. And get her back."

X

She stopped in a small town somewhere in the middle of nowhere. To be honest she has no idea where she was.

The usually ever-perceptive and super-aware Teresa Lisbon was tired and heartbroken. She didn't have it left in her to navigate as well.

She got a questionable motel room and made a beeline for the bed, with the intention of sleeping it off.

But her tired eyes refused to close.

She was plagued with memories of blue eyes and blonde curls… And angry, red faces smugly laughing and taunting her.

She felt when the first tears began to stream down her cheeks and when the sobs overtook her body with violent shakes. It didn't feel like it was happening to her. It was like she was outside, watching it happen to her own body.

She imagined his warm arms around her, trying to coax herself into sleep.

_Nice try, but no sale…_

In a last desperate attempt, she takes out her phone (the one she's been ignoring all day along), and dials the number to listen to her messages.

"_Teresa, I know you think that there's no other choice than this, but please come back! We're following up on Red John, we'll catch him! Please…"_

His voice was pleading and heart-breaking, but it was his voice non-the-less. She forced herself to stop listening to his words and listen only to the beautiful cadence of his voice.

And her lullaby, finally, after countless repeats, lulled her to sleep.

* * *

**So what do you think? I'm doing my best to update under the circumstances, so please review!**

**Zanny**


	11. Chapter 11

**Reversed: Chapter 12**

**Thanks to all the faithful reviewers! And since I've noticed that many of the authors whose stories I'm currently following (too many to mention), also happen to read and review on MY work, here's a special message: Sorry for my lack of reviews lately. It's not that I'm not reading, because I am. But circumstances force me to limit my internet use, so things like reviewing and favouriting take a backseat. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, still.

* * *

**

He sits in the white picket-fence house in the suburbs of Sacramento.

Thinking.

Pondering.

Perusing the words he'll be writing soon.

There wasn't much in the world that surprised him anymore. He has become an expert on human behaviour by now. But that she left surprised him.

She _was_ supposed to leave Patrick Jane. That's why he called her. But she wasn't supposed to leave Sacramento.

He was situated in Sacramento, real comfy here, and moving would be a horrible inconvenience for him just to continue their little game that amuses him so. And even the amusements fades after too long…

Yes, he decided, Teresa Lisbon would come back. She needed him, or at least to get to him. And that would be all the fun of it; to get to him, she'd not only have to deal with his taunting presence in her life, as the shadowy figure who took all she loved away from her like before… Now she'd also have to deal with having the greatest temptation of her life – the man she loves – right in front of her, without being able to be with him. For his own safety, to keep him from getting killed at the same before-mentioned shadowy figure.

A cruel smirk crosses his face. It's a whole new kind of torture! It surprises him that he didn't think of it sooner…

He hears a car pull into the driveway and he pulls the sheet of white paper that lies on the coffee table closer and scribbles on it in black ink, smirking as he does.

Keys scratch in the lock on the front door and he hears as it opens, and as the woman of the house enters, struggling with the bags from the grocery store. He hears her kicking the door closed; throw the keys in the bowl in the hallway. Make her way to the kitchen.

With a smile, he gets up from the comfy armchair in the living room he's been sitting in, waiting for her, and flicks open the knife. It glistens in the low light of late afternoon.

About twenty minutes later he tentatively places the sheet of paper on the kitchen counter by the body and walks out of the front door.

He dials a by now familiar number as he walks.

"Miss Lisbon?" He says when she answers.

_Who is this?_

He chuckles darkly. "Just because _you're_ leaving… Doesn't mean _I_ am…"

He hangs up.

X

Patrick Jane breaths in the cool evening air and wonders to himself how he got in so deep.

How he _let_ himself even get in in the first place.

The lovely suburban neighbourhood is littered with blue and red lights and flooded with people, uniforms and spectators alike.

She called him for the first time since she left less than a week ago only minutes before. She was crying over the phone; it broke him. The first time he hears her voice after six days of calling and pleading his case to voicemail and it is in near-hysterical sobs.

Red John had called her to gloat about his latest killing. The little he could make out over the phone was desperate pleas for him to get out of Sacramento. To run away.

And that she was coming back.

He was almost happy, until he was reminded that it was Red John bringing her back. And that there was no way they could be together under these circumstances, not even the barely-together way they were before.

He ordered Van Pelt to triangulate the last call to go through to Lisbon's number and within a few minutes they had a position of origin.

They found the mutilated body of the blonde-haired, divorced homemaker Sophie Joel in her kitchen. Groceries were still unpacked on the counter. Her two kids were at their dad's for the weekend.

She was cut up Red John-style.

But it wasn't the near-familiar bloody slashes that upset him so much that he had to step out of the crime scene and get some air.

It was the note that lay so innocently on the kitchen counter by the body. Like a commentary memo at a hotel. Just to remind them.

_Dear Agent Jane,_ it read. _Best get your girlfriend back. I enjoy playing with her, and my lease isn't up yet. The race is still on… Good luck! :-)_

Whatever he got himself into by falling in love with his unruly consultant, it was much more serious than he initially thought. But there was no going back now.

He was officially on Red John's radar. And experience told him that Red John kept things on radar for a reason, and his threats were never idle.

She was coming back.

In these few days that's been all that he's wanted. Now he found himself wishing this day away.

At least where she was now she was away from Red John. If he wanted to kill him as punishment, so be it. She was gone anyway, she wouldn't even know.

Now she was coming back right into Red John's metaphorical claws where both of them would be played with for the sadistic pleasure of a murderous psychopath.

With no clear way out.

* * *

**So what do you think? Yeah, I know. I did nothing anybody asked for. But it wrote itself. R&R?**

**Zanny X**


	12. Chapter 12

**Reversed: Chapter 12**

**Haha, whoopsie! Just realized my mistake that I titled the last two chapters one chapter farther ahead… But it's okay, I apologize. This just means that this will be the second chapter 12… But I trust that the fanfic readers of the world are an intelligent bunch and realized my mistake was only a slight booboo and didn't get too worked up and confused over it…**

**Anyhoo, thanks for all those lovely reviews! Day made? Check!**

**Also: Enter a new character! This one you may find familiar, though not in this gender… Oh my, Zanny, who on earth do you have in mind? Well, you'll just have to read, I guess…**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Still no progress on that whole 'Take over the Mentalist-industry'-plot everyone seems to think I've got going on. Because a South African teenager could totally overthrow a TV-show and start owning it. That's totally logical and believable. Everything I say is mine, all mine, and reflects nothing of no one else. Promise.

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Red John was one twisted bastard. She understood that better than anyone else in the world.

Here was proof: He's making her stay in Sacramento where he could not only torture her to his heart's content, but she would be forced to live every day in the same room as the man she so desperately wanted but could never have. Torture. A new, different kind of torture.

And it had her quaking in her boots.

She had to get Patrick Jane out of Sacramento. It was her new mission.

But she knew it wouldn't be easy. He could be more stubborn than her if he wanted to, and this was definitely a situation where he would want to. Sacramento was his home. And his job was here – she almost rolled her eyes at his job. He'd never, ever _dream_ of leaving it.

Besides, his sense of what was possible to take on was seriously warped. He was too brave for his own good.

And she fell for it. She fell for his stubborn streak and his strong gaze. And _now_ look where it got them!

Pawns in the dark chest game of a murderous psychopath. She wished that she quit when she was ahead.

She stood outside the CBI building, leaning against the blue Citroen that she drives too slowly. She wished that he'd run out here, tell her to get in the passenger seat and speed them off to somewhere obscure and remote where they could hide forever. That he'd promise her everything would be okay and make it so. That they could forget about this whole messy business and just be together like a normal couple; do silly things like pick out furniture together and go grocery shopping and fight over mother-in-laws.

She wished that she wasn't the favourite plaything of a serial killer and she wished that said serial killer didn't just discover him and decide he was just as fun to play with.

She wished that these wishes weren't idle and pointless.

She heard a car park somewhere behind her and it brought her back to reality. She had to go in there sometime and face reality.

Face the team.

Face _him_.

The optimist inside of her hoped that Red John got sloppy on this murder and left that vital clue that would get him caught, but she knew that it was useless.

It was a vicious cycle that she thought she saved them both from by leaving. Turns out things are never as easy as they seem and she would never be able to save him.

"Lisbon!" She heard Rigsby call behind her. Must've been his car that parked.

She put on a fake smile. "Hey."

"You back?" He asked smiling companionably.

"I guess. For the case." She said and like it explained everything that needed to be explained. Rigsby's face told her that it didn't explain anything. She hoped that he didn't know about her relationship with Jane… He was a terrible liar and nearly translucent.

But of course, when it concerned his job he'd lie through his teeth time and time again to save it. She knew that much.

She walked with Rigsby into the building, into the elevator. She was suddenly very annoyed with Rigsby; his being here kept her from turning and running away like the coward she knew she was.

The elevator made a horrid 'ding!' and she hesitated before walking down the hall. She decided that there was no way around it. She was going to have to talk to him and apologize for leaving sometime. Better sooner than later.

She made a beeline for his office, but stopped dead in her tracks at the door when she heard it: that blessed sound.

His laugh.

It was bubbling out like a joyous melody and she couldn't help her eyes from closing as she revelled in the stirrings it created in her chest.

Then a thought hit her: Why was he laughing? And was that a _female voice_ laughing with him?

She burst into the office and the sight that greeted her knocked the wind right out of her.

He was leaning against his desk with his hands in his pockets, still smiling from laughing so heartily. He was even more beautiful than she could remember: A week was too long apart.

_Woah there!_ There's a woman standing in front of him! A woman? Who was she? What did she want with _her_ man? Well, not _her_ man, her sort-of, kind-of secret-boyfriend. If she didn't completely mess it up by running away the first time her serial killer stalker threatened and then called in hysterical tears when he called again… Those were the kind of things that could scare a guy away…l

She had long, smooth brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail and she wore a business suit, looking very much in charge female-detective. She was pretty. _Damn her._

"Who's this?" Were the first words she uttered. It probably sounded snappier than she originally intended, but there was no taking it back now.

Their smiling faces fell until the air became more awkward than anything else.

"Lisbon… You're back." He said.

"Yes. I told you I'd be back, didn't I?"

"Well, to be honest, I couldn't make much out." He said, attempting to tease her. Under normal circumstances she'd grin cheekily and play along with their little back-and-forth game. But right there was a stupidly pretty woman laughing across the room from him and that was _not_ normal circumstances.

"Are you back just for the case, or indefinitely?" He asks again.

"I don't know. I guess it depends on the case." She says. "But we're being rude. Come on, Patrick; introduce me to your friend."

"Uh, this is Agent Sam Bosco. She's an old friend from back in the day; we worked together in San Francisco."

"Samantha Bosco." The woman said, reaching her hand for a handshake. Lisbon sees a golden wedding ring glistening on her finger, but somehow the rest it's supposed to give her doesn't settle in.

Lisbon shook the hand probably just a little harder than she normally would. "It's nice to meet you. So just passing through?"

"No, actually I was just hired in the CBI. I'm going lead my own team here in the Serious Crimes Unit." She says, still with that smile that drove a (surely not jealous) chill down her spine.

"How nice. You'll be just around the corner from us."

"Yes." More fake smiles.

"Alright, so I guess we gotta get back to work, don't we? Lisbon, you can go get briefed in the bullpen with the others. It was really great to see you again, Sam. We should really arrange something." He said, smiling at the brunette demon.

"We should. I'll call you."

And then they hugged and she left.

Lisbon didn't leave the room for the bullpen like he told her to. She strolled over to the couch in the corner of his office and plopped down.

"Well, that was nice. She seems… really nice."

"She is." He said, returning to his desk and starting to fill in some paperwork. "It's really strange to see her again, though."

"Why?"

"I don't know… Just because." Then he looks up. "Shouldn't you be getting briefed?"

She doesn't speak, nor stands up to leave. She sits there in silent contemplation for a few moments, before whispering cautiously: "I'm sorry for leaving."

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry for leaving like that. And not answering your calls. But you understand why I did it, don't you?"

"You did it because you were afraid Red John was going to come after me and the team. And then you came back a week after." He said, not looking up. "Because you realized that that's not what Red John meant and that he's going to come after us anyway if you leave."

"I have to protect you, Patrick." She said. "I left because I thought that was the only way. Turns out he had another way in mind, but it was much crueller. I love you…" She said in a small voice. "But I have to leave you to protect you and… I'm not sure if I can do that. But I can't _ leave_ or he'll just come after you anyway. I don't know what to do."

"Catch him."

"It's near impossible; you know that as well as I do!"

"Teresa Lisbon, I've seen you do so many things I thought impossible! I've seen you pull off things I never thought could be pulled off. This is just another one of your cases. You'll solve it eventually, just like you solve everything eventually. You know it too…" He looks up for the first time and their eyes meet. He's not making this easy on her… "What's up? You've never been afraid of taking on Red John before? In fact, it's the reason you came to the CBI, to take on Red John!"

"Before I had nothing to lose."

For a moment, there were no words. It was only the two of them, their eyes locked. It was what a cheesy romance novel would call a _moment_.

Until Cho came knocking on his office door. "Boss, Lisbon… Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

"No, of course not." Jane recoiled instantly. "Let's get going. We've got a case to solve."

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**Alrighty then! Please review! They're such a joy! It's like spreading love in pixel-form! Did you like what I did with Bosco? (sly smile) I couldn't very well make her bald, but I did my best to create a female-esque Bosco character. I thought about giving her a **_**boep**_** like real Bosco has, but I never did. In my eye girl-Bosco is kind of tall and willowy but with like a solid personality? Anyway, just tell me what you think! And make suggestions! Should I kill her off like real Bosco? **

**Zanny X**


	13. Chapter 13

**Reversed: Chapter 13**

**Thanks all reviewers! Your comments are really helping me so much in developing this story!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

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Samantha Bosco was suddenly everywhere. Hanging around in the kitchenette, making coffee; _conveniently_ at the exact same time that Jane would be there to make a fresh brew of tea.

It was killing her.

She tried her best to hide it – a jealous woman was never a pretty sight and she knew it – but she knew that Jane noticed her prolonged side-glances when the two chatted beside the coffee machine and the attempted-subtle glares in the slender Agent's direction.

Besides, it distracted her from her main goal: Red John.

The killing was as horrific as ever; the red face glared down from the bright white kitchen wall. Blood was everywhere, the smell of iron in the air.

And that note… It was terrible.

And, as per usual, there wasn't a shred of evidence pointing to _anyone_. No DNA, no fingerprints, no nothing.

Red John wasn't getting sloppy now, he wasn't planning on getting caught. Not that she expected he would. She knew he'd be just as careful as ever, if not more.

She needed to get her priorities straight.

She needed to get her mind in the game.

And most of all, she needed to get _Red John_.

She pulled herself up from her couch and headed to the kitchenette to pour her another cup of coffee. The exhaustion of the last couple of days, working this case, was catching up on her – sleep came with difficulty, the few times it did. Caffeine had become her best friend in a matter of days.

Besides, it was lunch time and everyone else was getting a quick sandwich from the deli around the block. She would've objected in them leaving in the middle of a Red John case, but their tired eyes and her own frustrations made her cut them a break…

It was in returning from the kitchenette that she heard the voices coming from Jane's office.

_He never went with the team to the deli…_ She thought briefly. She tiptoed to his door, not letting herself think about the fact that she was eavesdropping on her boss.

"Patrick, I've told you before…" It was Bosco, she realized with resentment. She shifted just a bit until her ear was very nearly pressed against the door.

"Mark is unfaithful to me as well… He keeps some slutty blonde secretary from the office in the closet, but we both know that the wedding rings we wear don't mean anything anymore. We're only staying together for the kids, he knows that. _I_ know that… And I'm lonely, Patrick, and you're lonely – I know you are. We were good together before, we can be good together again." She heard Bosco say.

It felt like the wind was knocked out of her. She didn't let herself think about what that meant.

"Sam, I… I can't do that; you _know_ I can't do that!" She heard Jane say and a wave of relief passed through her.

She could practically hear the raised eyebrows in Bosco's tone. "What's keeping you, Patrick? What's keeping you from being happy?"

Silence.

"It's that crazy consultant you're keeping, isn't it? I mean, I've heard stories around the office about how the two of you have been working together for a while, and all, and water cooler gossip, but I waved it off. What does she mean to you, Patrick?" She asks bitingly.

"She closes cases." She hears him say.

"She closes cases? Is that all?"

"Yes, that's it. Of course that's it! What else would it be?" She hears him say.

There's a silence for a moment, like Bosco's trying to gather courage. "She means more to you, Patrick. She means too much to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He says, disbelief dripping off every word.

She doesn't stay for the rest of the conversation. She slowly backs away from the door and heads back to her couch; lies down, closes her eyes like nothing happened.

But inside, her mind is a crazed flurry of activity. What did this mean?

Her feelings for Patrick Jane were a mystery even to herself; and there were very few things on this earth that were mysterious to her. She knew they were colleagues and she knew he was a means to an end. She also knew that he became her friend. And she cared for him in a way she didn't want to care about anyone any more.

Not deeper than friendship… _right_?

No, definitely not deeper than friendship…

_Right_?

What were with all these 'right's' coming up? Why was there even any doubt?

Why was she even thinking about this? Why did she care that Samantha Bosco thought that there was something between her and Jane? Wasn't she thinking not too long ago that she should get Jane a woman?

Why was she even this close to someone who was just supposed to be the gateway to her bloodthirsty revenge?

X

Somewhere else in Sacramento, he was sitting behind a desk in a swirling desk chair. A glistening silver knife shone between his fingers.

On the desk there was a photograph of a woman with dark hair and green eyes.

Beside it another, of a blonde haired man with a sea-blue gaze.

"My little playthings…" He muses, a smile creeping upon his face. "An arrogant con woman who sees absolutely everything…" His finger runs across the edge of the picture. "…And her noble hero, dashing in to save her."

He chuckles coldly. "What a mess you've gotten yourself into, Teresa. Falling in love with the forbidden fruit. And then trying to run, like you'll ever be able to escape me…" A chilling smirk. "You'll never come out of this one alive, my dear."

He runs the shining blade across the flat pictures, tearing smooth lines across their faces.

Leaving them in shreds.

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**What do you guys think? Reviews are 90! HOORAY! Most reviews ever received for a fic! Thanks so much, you guys rock! Make it more? ;)**

**Zannny X**


	14. Chapter 14

**Reversed: Chapter 14**

**Thanks so much for all the reviews! (Nearing the 100-mark! First time for any fic of mine to get so many reviews – you guys rock!) **

**Sorry for taking forever and always to update. I'm back from vakay and with my laptop, but said laptop refuses to connect to the wireless network. You reading this means that I've come up with a very cunning plan that I haven't thought of yet to get this chapter posted…**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine**

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Weeks had passed since Lisbon had heard that fateful conversation through the thin walls of Jane's office.

Things were getting back to normal – they were solving cases like a well-oiled machine (though complaints still piled up) and Lisbon and Jane fell back into their old, familiar banter. Though, upon occasion, they would end up alone at the office, or at a scene, or in the SUV and they would have another moment. And for the rest of the day, they would be awkward, fumbling messes around each other.

Lisbon was happy that Bosco had made herself scarce since the conversation all those weeks ago – they only saw each other in passing or in the kitchenette on odd coffee breaks.

Lisbon had, though, noticed something new and different. Rigsby and rookie Van Pelt had, after months and months of cautious flirting and uncomfortable attraction, began a secret relationship. It wasn't obvious enough to tip off the office gossip mill just yet, but to trained eyes like hers their relationship was painfully obvious. She lay on the couch and watched the two young agents attempt to subtly exchange glances and barely succeeding.

She wasn't jealous.

She wasn't jealous at the couple for allowing themselves to go for it. She was happy for them – really!

She knew she wasn't allowed to have that ever again. She knew she wasn't allowed to be in love anymore.

But she did miss it. She was a woman, after all, and being in love is quite the feeling… She missed it.

She glanced up to the windows to Jane's office for the umpteenth time – she could see him through the blinds, sipping coffee and taking a well-deserved break from the constant flow of paperwork.

And the naïve voice in the back of her head said: You could have it too…

Her realistic side quickly shushed down the little voice and lay back down. Why did she keep coming back to that? Keep letting herself wander off into a dream world where they weren't the people they were?

She lay there for another few moments, internally scolding herself, until her solitude was interrupted by the shrilly ringing phone – she jumped a little at the unexpected sound (earning a smirks all-around).

She heard Jane answer the phone inside his office.

His voice changed.

His eyes darted up to her couch through the window – they were nervous.

There was something wrong, she could tell. But she waited until Jane finished with his series of "Yessir"'s and nods, hung up the phone and walked out of his office into the bullpen.

"We've got a case." He announced, but something about his tone and body language told her he wasn't done. That this wasn't just a case.

"What is it?" She asked.

He hesitated, then: "It's Red John."

X

This murder scene was horrific.

And what made it worse was that it was absolutely random, and obviously only about getting to them.

A young woman was discovered in her bedroom, bloodily mutilated, by her fiancé.

But above her the wall was clean. In fact, the local police only realized that it was a Red John case after they examined the body and noticed the blood on the floor – arranged in a bloody, smug face. So they called the CBI.

Jane drew a deep breath as he slowly raked his eyes across the scene.

Bloodier than ever.

Smug.

Like he was playing them and they had nowhere to go but the direction he's pushing them in.

That's why he broke from his norm this time – to shock them, to confuse them. To overwhelm, and probably most importantly, scare them.

And boy, did he succeed.

With those few single words written in blood beside the familiar bloody symbol.

_She'll end it tonight_

"She'll end it tonight?" Lisbon repeated in a soft tone. "She? Me? Will I end it tonight?"

"Tonight." He said. His voice was unlike she's ever heard it before. It was like he was stuck in his own nightmarish daze; like he was somewhere between disbelief and fear.

"Tonight." She repeated.

_Tonight…_ Tonight things will end, she knew. Red John doesn't make idle threats and he doesn't set dates and make plans and then chicken out. He doesn't break his promises. Either she was going to overthrow the serial killer who took everything from her and ruined her life, and take his; or she was going to leave in a body bag.

Tonight was the amalgamation of years of hatred-filled conquests of vengeance. She didn't know how or why, but she knew it ended tonight.

She looked over at Jane and saw his calculating blue eyes focused on her, trying to figure out how she was reacting to this.

And a thought she never imagined would pop into her head in this situation, did just that.

_No._

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**So, once again, sorry for the delay in updating! And, as I'm guessing you're noticing, the fic is coming to an end soon. Two, three chapters more. Please R&R! 100 reviews are sooooooooooo close…**

**Zanny X**


	15. Chapter 15

**Reversed: Chapter 15**

**100 REVIEWS! EEEKK! Rock you guys do! So much! **

**Disclaimer: Nope, still nothing**

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Every able-bodied employee of the CBI was on this case. Every uniform, every agent was following every semblance of a lead they had.

The team was working furiously to figure out exactly what those haunting four word meant: _She'll end it tonight_

And no, Red John wasn't sloppy this time either. He didn't leave any clue, not even on purpose. If things were going down tonight like he promised, it would be on his terms. Because he reached out to them and arranged it. There would be no fantastic chase, no chance to elude them and enough chance for him to pull out at any moment if he wished to do so. Not that he would, she knew.

She had an odd sense of nervousness in her. Not exactly excitement, but an anxious fear-like state of awe of what was coming.

She's been waiting to find him since that night years ago. She's been anticipating their face-off all that time.

And now that it was here and she was terrified.

She's always been recklessly brave when Red John was concerned; she's always been too ready to strike and too eager to attack.

She had nothing to lose then.

Now… she didn't know what it was she _had_ to lose. But she knew that she didn't want to risk it.

She watched as Patrick Jane scribbled on the whiteboard in the bullpen, making a timeline on when Red John could've entered the dead woman's home. Not that it mattered.

She watched him draw the wide lines and write what she's sure was meant to be words in his chicken scratch-handwriting.

And she realized that the feeling she was feeling was _longing._

She was longing for Patrick Jane and she had been for a long time. Because she had feelings for him – feelings deeper than colleagues or even friendship.

Someone asked her opinion and she just shook her head and walked out the bullpen.

Somehow she ended up outside the CBI building; she ran across the street to the grassy park and fell on her knees.

She sat there, on her knees, her breaths coming and going in heaves for an unknown amount of time. The only other time she's ever felt this feeling of painful helplessness was that year in the locked room. The last few rays of sunshine shone on her face – it was late afternoon, almost the _tonight_, almost the promised time for it all to end. They're no closer to figuring him out and it'll all have to happen according to the rules he set. They're going to have to wing it in the face off and chances of survival were low. Chances of winning were infinitesimal.

Chances of losing the man she only now realized she loved – overwhelming.

She felt warm tears slowly dancing down her cheek.

And an equally warm hand touching her shoulder.

She jerked in fright and fell back. Behind her was Jane with an uneasy look on his face.

"Lisbon? Are you alright?"

"Yeah…" She said and was surprised at how hoarse and teary her own voice sounded. "I'm just peachy, thanks."

"Why are you acting like this? I thought you'd be ecstatic! You're getting what you want, aren't you? We're getting Red John."

She didn't say anything.

So he sat down beside her on the grassy ground and kept talking. "I do, however, have to tell you that I'm not going back on my word. I'm not going to let you kill him."

"I don't expect you to."

"Well then what's wrong?"

She looked up at him and their eyes locked.

Sky-bright blue to teary sea-green.

She took his hand in hers and interlaced fingers. He looked down at the interlocked hands with surprise but didn't say anything.

"Thank you, Patrick." She said. The use of his first name felt foreign and strange, but nice. Warm.

"For what?" He said with a little chuckle.

"For being who you are. And no matter what happens tonight, I want you to know how unbelievably grateful I am… And… I…"

She feels like a wimp.

She can't say it.

_Wimp!_ She scolded herself internally. _You could die tonight! He could even die tonight! Whatever, there could be a lot of dying and you might never see him again! Tell him how you feel!_

She looks up into his eyes again and the light of the setting sun illuminated his face in the most beautiful way she's ever seen. His hair was beyond golden, his skin glowing and his eyes sparkling like blue gems. He smiled his broad, mega-watt smile encouraging and she felt an inexplicable surge of bravery.

_Why do I choose now to realize I'm hopelessly in love with him? Why now? Right when every chance we could ever spare dissapeared into dust?_

"Patrick, I… I don't know how to say this, but…"

The shrill ring of his phone interrupted her and she felt her heart sink.

It was here.

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**Gah! Next chap is the face off! Please people, I need original ideas! Because the only things coming to my mind are bleh.**

**Also, I have a quick question for everyone reading this after note. Do you guys think it'll be a good idea to make a discussion/something kinda like that that'll be kind of like an award show for Jisbon-writers? I'll create a bunch of fun categories like, for instance, 'Queen of Hearts' for best fluff writer, or the best fic in different genres… And you guys can nominate and then I can announce winners. Would anyone be interested in something like that?**

**Please R&R!**

**Zanny**


	16. Chapter 16

**Reversed: Chapter 16**

**Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, you guys are amazing! Here comes the face-off! It's very uncreative, but Simon (my writing mojo) is on holiday too.**

**Also, please go to The Jisbon Awards, a forum I created where you can nominate your favourite fics and writers in specific categories and give them some well-deserved recognition! I think that the excellent writers on are hardly given enough praise for their talents, and this could be a way to do exactly that!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

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An address and a time given in a soft, creepy voice in a thirteen-second call to the phone in the bullpen.

The address was a factory at the docks that last belonged to a business that had recently gone bankrupt. It was to begin at midnight.

_Why always midnight? _Lisbon thought to herself when Van Pelt told them about the call.

Then she turned to Jane. "I'm going alone."

"Under no circumstances."

"Red John said-…"

"Red John said nothing. He didn't say for you to come alone or anything like it. He just said an address and a time. You're taking back-up." Jane's tone was firm and serious. He wasn't joking around with this; there wasn't any of the warm, comforting tone of moment before left, only business-Jane.

Cold, hard, fierce.

Without discussion.

She locked her jaw; she wasn't letting him endanger himself even further. Patrick Jane's will was hell to go through, but she was willing to try even in her current state of emotional exhaustion.

X

A sickle-moon scarcely lit the dark midnight-sky.

Flickering yellow street lamps burned barely and stars seemed to be mostly no-shows beneath dark clouds that crept up and covered them.

She stood alone in front of the large building with creaking doors.

The awaited flush of courage was coming; she felt the adrenaline finally surging through her veins.

It was here.

Right now, it was here.

She was terrified, but she wasn't turning back. She was meeting the monster right now, right here, in the dark, creaking building right in front of her.

She took the first step and then the next. She walked into the building – it was large and filled with crates and it smelled like dust and mold. Her footsteps echoed through the building.

She waited.

Seconds turned to minutes and she wouldn't even know if they turned into hours. Time seemed to become without measure. It was like she was drifting in anxious anticipation even though her feet felt heavy as lead on the floor.

"Why hello, Teresa." The voice almost made her jump when it rang from the darkness. It was soft and breathy and sent chills down her spine.

"Hi." She said and her customary smile made its way onto her face. She shoved her hands in her pockets and shifted from one foot to another casually; inside her pockets her hand felt the cool, hard metal of one of Patrick Jane's off-duty guns.

She waited for him to make his appearance and step into the small strip of faint moonlight that leaked through the skylight.

"You can take that gun out of your pocket, Miss Lisbon." She heard the same voice say.

She chuckled and extracted the gun carefully out of her pocket. It felt foreign and heavy in her hands; she's never been comfortable with guns.

"I hope you don't expect me to throw it down, though. I accept you have your knife here, no?" She smiled when she heard the sound of the knife being drawn and a glint in the darkness as she spoke. "We wouldn't want an uneven playing field, now would we?"

Another spine-chilling chuckle from the darkness. She forces herself not to let on.

"So how do you want to do this?" She asks.

"Well, for starters, you can get your back-up team to crawl out of their hiding places. They're not fooling anyone besides themselves. And I'd much rather prefer to keep things moving; I've got other places to be." She could practically hear the smug smirk in his voice.

Slowly but surely the five agents came skulking out of the darkness, guns drawn.

And with a dark chuckle, the shadowy figure across the room does the same. His pale face is illuminated by the faint glowing light and a cruel, crooked smirk dons his face.

But the worst are the eyes. Beady and black and filled with cruel joy.

It kills her inside.

This is the man she's lived to hate in the past years of her life. The moment would be surreal, if it wasn't so painfully genuine.

They stand there in silence, just staring at each other, for a few moments, before the cold, empty silence is broken by Jane's voice.

"We've got you surrounded and outnumbered. Why don't you just give up now?"

"Patrick, Patrick…" Red John chuckles, shaking his head amused. "That's kind of sweet how naïve you are. After all you've been through, still believing in justice and fairness. Maybe that's what she sees in you, huh? Or it could just be the hair. That's my bet." His smile is chilling. "No, no, Patrick, I'm not going to 'give up', as you so eloquently put it. What kind of nemesis would I be if I gave you directions to find me and just gave myself over? No, I have backups too…"

His hand reached back into the darkness and pulled hard towards him a woman: Samantha Bosco.

She was heaving heavily, her work shirt was torn and there was dried blood beneath her nose and salt stains streaking her cheeks.

And Red John's shining blade was pressed against her throat.

And further behind him came three men – all equally dangly and award-looking, and all holding .45 guns.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisbon could see Jane's jaw set into a determined line.

"Let her go!" Cho yelled threateningly.

A dark chuckle and a smug answer: "I don't think so, Agent Cho."

"What is it you want?" Lisbon asks sedately. She's standing front and center with the gun dangling in her hand at her side.

"Teresa, you know what I want. To ruin your life."

"Haven't had enough of that?" She asks with a smile, but there was no humor in her voice. "Besides, I don't see how holding Samantha Bosco hostage is influencing me. No offense, Bosco."

"You don't?" Red John asked patronizingly. "Well, let me explain it to you. Bosco might not mean much to you, but she means a hell of a lot to your little boyfriend." Jane tried not to flinch. "Don't try to pretend. Everyone in the room knows there's something more than a working relationship between you two. They don't know about how you two slept with each other before my little call, but they now there's something more."

Their team didn't show any reaction, but she knew they were shocked. She'd be too. Since she came back the relationship between her and her former-secret-boyfriend had become colder and more stiffly professional than ever before in their relationship.

Then, in the silence that followed Red John's speech, something happened. Who knew what caused the noise, maybe a bird flying into a window or something, but chaos broke out.

Gunshots from both sides and a screech – Sam Bosco's screech – as Red John lurched forward towards her, his knife glistening in the moonlight above his head.

He was coming at her. It was like everything was moving in slow motion as she raised the cold gun.

And with one shot, it was all over.

Red John's angered face fell and he was only inches from her. He staggered, his knife lowering slowly. As he fell, she felt the knife tearing the flesh of her extended arm. She felt the warm blood flowing, staining her sleeve crimson.

And Red John lay on the dirty, dust-covered ground of the factory, with a crooked smirk on his face. His dark, cackling laugh were the last sounds he made.

She stood there in silence for a few moments, her hands shaking with the gun still clasped tightly, blood dripping from her now-bloody sleeve.

"Lisbon, are you alright?" She heard Jane yell somewhere behind her.

X

The docks that were so still a few hours ago, were now lit with flashing blue-and-red lights. Ambulance-sirens screeched through the air.

She sat in the back of the ambulance, her arm being bandaged by a paramedic.

"You were very lucky. It just missed your ulnar artery." The paramedic said with a smile.

"Yup, that's me… Lucky."

She watched as the paramedics help Jane to the other ambulance, the one about to go to the hospital. A bandage was wrapped around his abdomen, where he was shot by one of Red John's men.

Once the paramedic was done, she got up and slowly made her way to him.

"Hey." She said shyly. She wasn't exactly sure how to go about this. That the whole thing was over was still a little surreal.

"Hey." He said, smiling back. "So I just got off the phone with Minelli. He said you were most likely going to be cleared because Red John was coming after you with a knife… So you don't have to worry about that."

"That wasn't what I was worried about." She said, her eyes going the red spot on his bandage where the blood had started to seep. He looked down at it and put on a smile, even though she knew he was in serious pain.

"Oh that? That's just a little, tiny bullet. I've lived through much worse. I wouldn't worry about that. What's important is that Red John is dead and Bosco is alright."

Lisbon nodded. "I am sorry, though. For everything." She looks down guiltily. "I've caused you so much pain, Patrick Jane. And you didn't deserve any of it. I wish I could take it all back, but I can't. And I want you to know I never meant to endanger you in any way and I never meant for you to get hurt. What I… What I started was irresponsible and stupid and selfish. And it almost got you killed…"

"Forget about it." He said. "And we both started it. And if you were wondering… I never regretted it. And I still don't."

"Can I intrude?" Bosco asked, walking up to them. Her arm was in a sling.

"Of course, are you okay?" Jane asked, moving in to hug her carefully.

"I want to thank you about that. You too, Lisbon." She said with a smile. "I know we've had our differences…"

"Yeah, I'm sorry about the whole 'holding Bosco has no influence on me'-thing. I had to have something on him… Not that _that_ worked out like I hoped…"

"No worries."

"So what exactly happened that you were taken by Red John?"

"He, uh…" She looked down, and for some unknown reason Lisbon felt a chill creep down her spine once again. "He came to my house."

"He came to your house? Like, abducted you?" Jane attempted.

"Not exactly." She reached back and behind her and when her hand reappeared it had a gun in it.

"_Don't _even try Patrick!" She whispered, referring to how he immediately went to his gun holster. "Put your hands up and don't make a move. And you don't even blink. Hold your hands where I can see them." She said to Lisbon.

There they were: being held hostage by the hostage in the middle of an active crime scene swarmed with police officers.

An unusually dark smirk appeared on Bosco's face, staining her beautiful face with cruelty.

"He said that she'll end it tonight." She whispered in a soft whisper that sounded more like the now-dead serial killer than herself. "And I will."

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**Ooh! Did anyone see that coming? I hope not, I did try to do something unexpected. Please review! And remember to nominate your favorites on The Jisbon Awards forum!**

**Zanny X**


	17. Chapter 17

**Reversed: Chapter 17**

**Yo-lah! So it's official: You people are extremely effective reviewers. Because I was going to wait until tomorrow before even writing this chapter, and your reviews persuaded me otherwise. I think that deserves a pat on the back, because I can be very stubborn (and even more lazy) when I want to! Also, minor booboo on my part concerning the Jisbon Awards forum thing. Here follows a link, for efficient getting-there: **.net/myforums/lysjelonken/2442260/

**And also, the second part of this chapter is sort of in Van Pelt's view. Well, not really in her view per ****se****, in third person following her. You get it. And the doctor mentioned is inspired by my favourite doctor at my hospital. **

**Disclaimer: Oh, I hate this… (sigh) Alright, so I don't own Mentalist. Yes, I know that. Why do you people make me repeat it every time I write? (In small voice) It makes my heart hurt…

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**

Within minutes of her pulling the gun, the scene exploded with noise and activity.

Because the Agent held hostage had a gun drawn on the agents that saved her.

Every gun-wielding cop had their pieces drawn and the three standing behind the ambulance were surrounded in a matter of seconds. Shouts were coming from all over as those unarmed and scared evacuated and all others tried to verbally get Bosco to drop her weapon.

"You two… You have no idea how it feels…" She says, her voice shaky and thin. "Knowing the man you love is right _there_, in the same building, but in love with another. Being in a relationship where you are forced to see you husband flit around with bottle-blonde cocktail waitresses without even attempting to hide it! It's humiliating… It's degrading… It hurts _so _much…" She has gone almost hysteric now, tears falling down her red-flushed cheeks.

And then, suddenly, her anger stills and her voice returns to the soft, eerie whisper. "And then when your nemesis's nemesis arrives at your doorstep, saying he knows… Saying he understands… Giving you the perfect way out of the _shit_ situation that is your life…"

"How is this a way out, Samantha?" Jane asks with his hands reaching out to the space in front of him, quickly going back to the raised position when her gun angled threateningly.

"Oh, don't talk to me like I'm an out-of-control suspect, Patrick. Don't strategically use my first name in a soft tone to calm me down and comfort me." She chuckles darkly, humorlessly. "I'm not an idiot, I'm not going to forget years of training because I'm at the other side of the gun. And to answer your question, this is the perfect way out. Everyone wins: Red John gets what he wants – your little girlfriend, dead – and I get to exact my own little crime of passion. My own little revenge. Ironic, huh?" Her last question is directed at Lisbon. "And then I shoot myself, or one of these little beat cops will do the job for me. And I'm released from the misery that is living. Do you see now, Patrick?"

"How can you do this?" Lisbon asked, finding her voice again. "You're not like this, Bosco. You're a woman of the law, a woman of steel. Your drive comes from the pursuit of justice; your life is the job. How did you go so awry? From a little heartache and a conveniently-timed visit from a serial killer? You've lived through much more pain than this. So why? Why did you let him persuade you to commit the ultimate betrayal? Not to me, or the man you love, or even the job you've committed your entire life to. But a betrayal to yourself, to who you are."

"Lisbon! Shut up!" Jane whispered urgently.

But her words didn't seem to bother Bosco, whose gaze remained cold through the watery remains of the tears she shed not a moment ago.

"Like I don't know that this isn't usual. Of course it isn't _usual_." She says with another dark chuckle. "But what I was was suffocating me. It was killing me to be the ever-faithful patriot, super-agent who never does anything wrong. Who has to _save_ everyone when she's festering with anger and hatred inside. Even when I hurt beyond words I have to help everyone else, save everyone else from their petty little crimes over money and drugs and jealousy. I decided I'm going out. And if I'm going out, I might as well go out with a bang." She said and smirked as she cocked the gun.

"Goodbye." She whispered.

And then gunshots filled the air.

X

The hospital was emergency room waiting area was cold and empty. Apparently there wasn't that much happening at two in the morning on a Thursday.

Through her life Grace Van Pelt had not grown to like hospitals. Her father was a football coach, and those were a kind not suited for a quiet, super-safe life. Accidents and fights weren't rare occurrences; Grace found herself sitting in a room just like this one next to her mother and her sister listening to a doctor with tired eyes explain her father's latest broken bone often in her childhood.

The rest of the times would be in her career as a policewoman, where she would come for a few stitches after being attacked by a suspect, or visiting a colleague who's been attacked by a suspect.

But never, in all those times, had she been quite as terrified as now.

Patrick Jane, her no-nonsense boss with a will of steel and the heart of a protector, and Teresa Lisbon, the fake-psycic with the childlike enthusiasm and dark motives, were somewhere in this hospital right now.

Gunshot wounds.

Samantha Bosco, CBI-agent turned murderer, was also somewhere in this hospital. In the morgue.

Gunshot wounds to the back and abdomen by one of the agents that were surrounding her.

Red John and his accomplice were both dead. The case was closed, a monster off the streets.

They should be ecstatic, but maybe they'll be more in the mood to celebrate when their boss and consultant were saved.

A doctor with an impatient gaze and a cropped red hairstyle walked into the waiting room, file in hand.

"CBI Agents?" She asked.

"Yes." Cho said behind her.

"Alright, we've stabilized both of your agents, but that doesn't mean they're out of the woods." Sighs of relief.

"Thank you so much!" Rigsby said, shaking the doctor's hand.

"Alright, now if you could just contact any family they have, we'd be grateful. Save us the time of digging out numbers. What happened to them anyway?"

Grace sighed, an elated feeling of rest and relief washing over her. "They got a psychopath off the street." She said.

The doctor cracked a smile. "Well, tell them thank you when they wake up from all of us. They'll be up in a few hours."

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**So I did my best… Please review! It's like sunshine. Besides, I think we've proved how excellent you are at that! **

**Much love, Zanny**


	18. Epilogue

**Reversed: The Epilogue**

**I've had a blast writing this fic – my first with role reversal, one of my longest ever and my first to reach and pass 100 reviews! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing and supporting all my fics! **

**I also apologize for the use of the name Sacramento Trinity, the hospital they're in. Who knows if it exists? I made it up from the top of my head, but it sounds pretty realistic, no?**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still not

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She woke to a steely smell, an artificial coolness and a chorus of beeping.

Her eyes opened with effort and she was greeted by a terribly bright light that made her close her eyes immediately again.

That and a headache to end all headaches.

As her eyes got used to the very bright red beneath her eyelids, she immediately started observing with her other senses. And immediately she gathered that she was in a hospital, hooked to a beeping machine, lying on a terribly uncomfortable hospital bed under nothing but a flimsy government-issue blanket that wasn't nearly warm enough to shield from the fierce air conditioning.

When her eyelids opened slowly, her observations were confirmed. And her headache three-folded.

_What happened?_ She thought to herself.

Gingerly she turned her head to the side to find a nurse or a doctor or _anyone_ that could refresh her memory as to how she ended up in this bed.

What she saw didn't just send the memories of the past night streaming back to her like someone opened the floodgates, but it also knocked the wind right out of her.

It was him.

Patrick Jane.

Lying in the bed beside her, still as she's ever seen him. Was she just panicking, or was his machine horrifyingly still? Why wasn't the steady beeping of a heart monitor coming from him? Why was he so pale and so still?

He wasn't… No, he couldn't be…

Her panic must've somehow alerted the nurses, because before she could utter a word there was a crowd of them around her.

"Miss Lisbon? Miss Lisbon, how are you feeling?"

She tried to answer, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a wheeze-like sob of some kind.

One of the nurses called a doctor, and a red-haired doctor with a cropped hairstyle and a calm expression walked to her bedside.

"Miss Lisbon, please calm down. You are in the overnight hall at Sacramento Trinity Hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

"J-Jane… Is he okay?" She managed.

A smile tugged at the corners of the doctor's mouth. "Agent Jane is fine, Ma'am. And if you calm down, you'll see so yourself."

And sure enough, she could see the gentle, ever-so-slight rise and fall of his chest. He was fine.

She sighed, relieved.

The doctor was now smiling without attempting to hide it. "Now let's try this again. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. I've got a hell of a headache, though."

"Well, that's to be expected. You took a hell of a fall going down apparently. Plus you just came off anesthesia. It takes a toll. I'll get a nurse to bring you something for the pain." The doctor starts scribbling something down on the file.

"When will Jane be waking up?"

"He has been up. Reacted pretty much exactly the same way about you." She said without looking up. "Don't worry about it; he'll be up again soon enough. He's a fighter that one. Took an ugly bullet to the chest, just barely missed his lung – we thought he was done for sure at one point, but he's doing great. You were lucky, Agent Lisbon. It was the fall to the ground that gave you a concussion. It seems that Agent Jane jumped in front of you… Kept any bullets from hitting you."

As the doctor left, Lisbon was left speechless. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.

This was a hell of a trip they've been on.

But now, finally, her past can be put behind her. Red John is dead and her mission of vengeance with him.

She doesn't know how long she lies there staring at him. Could be mere minutes, could be several hours.

But then he wakes up – his eyes slowly creeping open before shutting quickly, wincing at the bright light.

She chuckles and it catches his attention.

"Lisbon?" His voice is raspy.

"Uh-huh?"

"We're in the hospital…"

"I know."

They lie there for a few more moments.

"So it's over?" He asks gently.

"Yeah…" She says, unable to keep the joy from her voice, the tears from springing to her eyes. "It's all over. Finally."

He smiles that smile of his that she's always loved and extends his hand carefully across the gap between their two beds. She does the same and their hands find each other, fingers interlacing.

"Now don't take this the wrong way, but you look like crap." He says in his teasing tone.

"You should see you. Apparently you acted as a human-bulletproof vest for me… Thanks, by the way."

"Don't worry about it… Lisbon?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I love you."

Lisbon smiles brightly and looks into the eyes of the man who saved her from everything – her past, herself, even flying bullets.

"I love you too…"

A nurse approaches their beds, awkwardly getting their attention.

"Uh, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I've got three agents in the waiting room who've been waiting to see you. Should I tell them to wait?"

"Oh no, please send them in." She says.

Then she turns to her boyfriend, Patrick Jane, the man she's been on the journey of a hell of a messed-up lifetime with and smiles.

"We've got all the time in the world."

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**END**

**One last review? For old time's sake? Love you all for reading! **

**Zanny X**


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